Tradition
by The Villain A
Summary: AU. Solid Snake takes an apprentice, as others have done before him.


**1993**

Everyone who knew Adam knew that he'd been born on the battlefield. They knew of his parentage, of his genes. He wasn't about to let them forget it. Born in 1980 to two legendary US special forces operatives who had defected to the Soviet Union, Adam was declared a tool of the government before he even left his mother's womb. Raised and trained in the compounds of Spetsnaz and the like, he grew to be the best among his peers, and would settle for nothing less. Despite his arrogant and accomodated attitude, his superiors had no doubt he would be of great use to the Motherland when he came of age.

Then, of course, the Iron Curtain collasped.

In exchange for financial aid and help in rebuilding their shattered country, Russian and American officials made some deals behind the scenes. One involved the transfer of Adam, the "gifted child", from the USSR to the USA, for the same purpose he had originally been groomed for, with assurance that he would never be used against his place of birth as a weapon in the future.

Adam's American handlers knew exactly where he would thrive; in the same stomping grounds of his mother and father, the agency FOXHOUND. And who better to educate the boy in his new home than someone who had personally known his parents, someone who had been with FOXHOUND since the beginning? Who else but Solid Snake?

Adam, who was referred to by the codename Ocelot as soon as he set foot on US soil, remembered the day he had met Solid Snake quite well. The man had been in his fifties, had to be past his prime, was surely only there as a grizzled instructor. He'd never trained anything but green twentysomethings, Ocelot knew. What could he possibly have to teach this prodigy who had the best genes a soldier could ask for? Hell, the geezer would probably have an attack of arthritis halfway into their hand-to-hand combat drills.

At least, that had been Ocelot's prediction when he attempted that first strike. That he would be on his back, in the dust and dirt of the desert known as "camp", staring down the barrel of a loaded SOCOM whose handler was not so much as blinking, in a matter of a second, had not been part of said prediction. Ocelot's memory of what happened in that moment was rather frayed; he clearly remembered terror, adrenaline, and perhaps a loss of bladder control, but more than anything else, he remembered _feeling his age. _Never had it been made so clear to Ocelot that he was just a kid, a 13-year old little boy. Snake's words on the subject, spoken in his distinctive growl after he removed the pistol while still pinning Ocelot with one hand, summed up the situation perfectly.

_"You're still young."_

Maybe a month, or a year, later, Ocelot remembered collapsing onto the dry grass of the same camp, gritty sand burning the cuts on his knees and legs. Snake stood a distance away, eyes fixed on the sunset that bathed the desert in orange light, paying no heed to his exhausted apprentice.

"_Do you know why I took you on?" _he'd asked, never once turning his head. Ocelot, his blonde hair dirtied and in a flat top, did not know.

_"It's not because you're special. I'll give credit where it's due, sure; you have raw talent that isn't seen often, and I can see why you were wanted. But you were a spoiled brat when you came here. Without some guidance, you'd have turned into just another sadistic, cowardly officer who's hated by his men. I've seen it often enough to know how it happens."_

The blow to Ocelot's self-esteem wasn't felt, because Snake spoke the truth, and they both knew it. If there was one thing he could teach, it was humility, and a sense of respect.

_"It's not because I was asked to. FOXHOUND holds its own against the brass, and everyone understands that. No; I took you on because of a promise I made to your mother."_

Ocelot was taken aback. He was aware of his lineage (bragged about it, really), somewhat of how the organization had been founded, and that Snake had been acquainted with his parents. But this was the first real acknowledgement of any interaction between them.

_"Why did you make it?" _

This time, Snake looked at him._ "You don't need to know that. I told it to you because you need to keep your ego in check, need to know you weren't picked because you were so important. If you want to find out someday, do it after this is over. I'm not your friend; I'm sure as hell not your father. I'm your instructor. We don't talk about our personal lives."_

Ocelot got the message. Nevertheless, there was already a bond between the two of them, one that came not from knowing the details of each other's pasts, but one that came from the experiences they shared in the present.


End file.
